


Mutual Respect

by emptymasks



Category: 3 Musketiers - Bolland/Bolland, Les Trois Mousquetaires | The Three Musketeers Series - Alexandre Dumas
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Underage Sex, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Priest Kink, Religion, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Sexual Tension, as in Milady thinks about her past but its kept vague and not detailed but still might be upsetting, could be read into it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:13:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23947489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emptymasks/pseuds/emptymasks
Summary: She'd seen him angry many times before. His fury, sharp and refined.But this anger of his was different.(The Cardinal is becoming extremely stressed and Milady has been away for too long.)
Relationships: Armand Jean du Plessis de Richelieu/Milady Clarick de Winter
Kudos: 4





	Mutual Respect

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Stalemate](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13178664) by [Shamelessly_Radiant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shamelessly_Radiant/pseuds/Shamelessly_Radiant). 



“Armand, Armand,” Milady panted. She wasn't sure why, perhaps she was trying to get him to look at her.

She hadn’t seen him act like this before. She couldn’t see his face at all, simply his silver-grey hair contrasting like the moon against a sky with no stars as it nestled against her dress, spilling over her bosom. Gold rings stung and bit at her waist as he kept her held and pinned against the wall.

He’d been writing to her, which wasn’t wholly unusual as sometimes he liked to check in with her directly rather than go through Rochefort to make sure they were both telling him the same thing. But the letters had been more frequent of late, growing in length as he rambled and vented, the parchment looking more and more abused and honestly she couldn't even read what some of it said.

Things had not been going his way and everyone in France knew how he got when that happened.

She'd seen him angry many times before. His fury, sharp and refined. His bellowing voice used to lull and lead his congregants, proficient in commanding attention and respect, would shatter like a glass and out would pour the wine, stinking hot, an aberrant contortion of Christ's blood. Like a viper he could seize someone in his grip, stronger than anyone could expect from a man who wasn't a soldier. On numerous occasions he'd grabbed her by the arm, pulling her into him or pushing her against a wall. Often he would pull down her garments at the shoulder to reveal the fleur-de-lis branded onto her skin, always grinning at her, reminding her of what vulgar creatures men could be, what vulgar creatures men of the Church could be. (And yet somehow here she was, finding herself not completely hating a man similar to the one who'd stolen her youth and her innocence and had _her_ punished for it. Fate had always loved cruel irony.)

But this anger of his was different.

When she'd breezed into his chambers, it had taken him almost a minute to properly notice her, his head lost in thought. The guards had stopped barring her entry and been more lenient with her the past few months... That's when _this_ had started, or shifted, rather. They had both known how easy it was to succumb to this, though the Cardinal was loathsome to admit it. It was refreshing, really. Having someone who looked at her and understood her. And she understood him. They were equals, in a strange way. He said he'd admired her. Despite the power he had over her, despite the blackmail on the tip of both their tongues, there was a mutual respect.

_Respect._

It had been such a foreign word to her for so long. Men didn't _respect_ her. Men had no respect to give to any woman. They had used and abused her since she was fourteen, tearing off whatever piece of her they could get their fat, rancid teeth through. Gluttonous for innocence. They gave her no respect and so she had vowed to give none in return.

And then somehow despite everything he was, between the shouting and the bargaining there was talking and plotting and grinning at their ideas as he let her linger in his chambers late enough into the night that she knew _he_ knew something was shifted. And there was pride at first. There was something tantalisingly sinful about it. Not just seducing a man who proclaimed purity, but a man who was, by his own words, an extension of God.

Cardinal Armand Jean du Plessis, Duke of Richelieu, Chief Minister to King Louis XIII. The Red Eminence. The meal he would make, quaking underneath her, begging for her to relieve him of the ungodly urges she'd caused. But of course, he wouldn't quake. Under her spell or not he would only instigate this when _he_ wanted to. He'd made that quite clear, even as his slight beard tickled her cheeks, even as her chest heaved against his, even as he had her flat on her back as he pinned her against his desk.

She had thought he would be a satisfying prey. What she hadn't anticipated was genuinely starting to want the hunt to reach its conclusion.

And he'd noticed it, of course. Those sharp, blue and green eyes noticed everything. He'd noticed the ever so slight way she wouldn't tense as much when he grabbed her. How her breathing would change as he circled her. How she would follow the movements of his hands as he spoke with them.

But they were each other's match after all. Two horses pulling the same carriage, forced to go at the same speed. And so she'd noticed his eyes would flicker down to where her breasts breached her corset when she sidled up against him. How his fingers would linger and brush against her as he let go of her. How he seemed to be touching her even when he wasn't angry.

They both knew he didn't need to touch her waist or wrist in order to draw her attention to something.

There'd been intimate moments already. Tensions had inevitably boiled over as tensions do and they'd found themselves desperately moving against each other. The word 'passionate' didn't come to mind when she thought of the earlier times, needy and desperate, yes.

But as for right now...

After standing there for what felt like a ridiculous amount of time, she shut the door behind her, the noise gaining his attention. He had jumped and she'd realised he wasn't ignoring her, he really hadn't noticed her entering.

"Something on your mind?" She'd asked in that innocent tone that was never innocent.

Parchment and scrolls where scattered around his desk, and around the whole room. It was so unlike him. He hated mess; everything had its place and everything should be in its place. She inspected him as she approached. He looked like he hadn't slept properly in days. The robes were off, slung over a chair, and he was just in his blood red trousers and shirt, the sleeved dripping off his elbows.

"I had thought you were sounding stressed in your letters, but this... Perhaps I came at exactly the right-" Her words left her with her breath as she was pulled around and pushed into the nearest wall.

In no time she was wrapping her legs around his waist and he had her hands pinned at either side of her head.

"Armand," She said again. His first name had only left her lips on a few occasion, but she knew how to read people well enough by now. She knew that would be one of the few things that could get through to him. As much as she would have loved him to be growling against her from her own accomplishments, this was clearly about something else getting him to the point that he needed to do something to relax. How annoying, she thought with a smirk, whatever it was had stolen her job from her. "Tell me what has gotten you into such a delightful mood."

"Nothing that concerns you."

"Oh, but it must be something truly awful to have you in such a tizz," The sarcastic teasing tone always irritated him and it succeed in its purpose as he straightened his back and drew his face up to hers.

"Figuring out how to keep the Huguenots from rebelling, the nobles from asking for my head, and England from declaring war on us is enough to put me in more than a 'tizz', Milady."

Oh he really was in a new mood wasn't he? Instead of yelling, his words came out in a quiet voice that slithered between his teeth as he stared down at her. It was new, it was... It was something new indeed as Milady felt how her stomach twisted.

He rested his forehead against the wall, his head next to hers. She heard him breathe. "You were gone for too long," He muttered. A momentary lapse of his mask. A second where his guard was let down. And out poked something akin to a feeling and Milady didn't know what to do with it so she tucked it away in her mind to dissect later. The air between them was burning and she wasn't about to turn this into a discussion of whether he had affections for her or not. She knew that would cause him to shut down. It was too early for that.

"Tizz or not," She rolled her hips to watch how his mouth fell open. "Perhaps you'd like me to help... relieve you of some of your burdens."

"Devil woman," He snarled as his lips neared his.

"Uppity priest."

Their lips met and Milady was struck with the realisation that throughout their previous little escaped, they hadn't kissed yet. It honestly wouldn't have surprised her if he hadn't known how. But she knew better by now. The moment he brushed against her she knew there was something more underneath the tight, well-kempt surface.

She wanted to chastise herself as she realised she was looking forward to finding it out.

**Author's Note:**

> The character's in this are based off the Berlin production of the Dutch musical 3 Musketiers, with Milady played by Pia Douwes and Cardinal Richelieu played by Uwe Kröger. But, I feel like you could still read this as the original book versions of the characters, or as other actors portrayals of them in the musicals.
> 
> So I'm in love with both the Dutch and German versions of the musical. It's ridiculous and over-the-top and I love it. This ship is one of those "I didn't think I was going to ship it but I guess I do now" ships. I partially blame "A Stalemate" by Shamelessly_Radiant. I was questioning whether to be into this ship or not and finding that there's actually another fic for them from the musical when I expected to find none, really made me want to write something.


End file.
